Adam Morrison is the epitome of irony in today’s NBA. If a team is going to connect itself to an ironic player of Morrison’s stature, that team needs to make itself home in a hipster haven. In the NBA, the two biggest hipster markets are Brooklyn and Portland.

While Brooklyn is trying to contend for a title, Portland is merely trying to contend for a first-round playoff exit to be sure it doesn’t have to deal with the pressure of a possible No. 1 draft pick in 2013.

Don’t get me wrong. The guy was great at Gonzaga. He is better than your average pickup baller. He would skunk me in a game of one-on-one. At the same time, I’m pretty sure JaMarcus Russell would put me to shame in the now-defunct NFL Quarterback Challenge.

The biggest difference is people in Portland are going to cheer for Morrison no matter what—if any—his on-court contributions are.

Morrison is in a prime position to assume the role of "guy on the bench cameras gravitate toward." He needs to become the towel-waver Portland hasn’t had since Patty Mills left.

He needs to be the high-fiver Portland lost when it dealt Marcus Camby.

Morrison has that ability.

In a city that loves irony as much as it loves awful facial hair, Adam Morrison can become a superstar. He has proved his mustache is up to the challenge. He has proved his game is bad enough to be cheered for by thousands. All that’s left is being embraced by a new city.

Morrison couldn’t have picked a better city than Portland.

Welcome, Adam. We’re ready to love you. As long as you never step foot on the court.